What Matters Most (8 page)

The click of a metal on metal followed by the sound of the cell door being opened had Nick shoving his arm up over his head. He opened his eyes and saw Officer Stanton standing WHAT MATTERS MOST

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in the open doorway with a stern expression on his face. His cold grey eyes were narrowed as he looked at Nick.

“I’m releasing you. I’ll take you to get your truck and follow you back to the hotel you’re staying at, then I will wait while you pack and check out.” Stanton’s face seemed to harden as he crossed his thickly muscled arms over his chest. “After that, I’ll follow you until you’re out of the county, and you best keep heading north. If I find out you’re back in town and pulling this stalking shit again, I’ll toss your ass in jail whether Josh presses charges or not. This is a small town,” Stanton said, his chest expanding as if to emphasise the strength of the man and the threat. “You don’t want to fuck with me.”

I’m being run out of town.
It seemed surreal for a man who’d never had more than the one speeding ticket he’d got when he was eighteen. Almost twenty years without even a hint of trouble, and now he was being treated like some…some
criminal!

Nick sat up and swung his legs off the bed, keeping a careful eye on Stanton. Visions of police beatings and small town vigilantism were flitting through his head. He concentrated on those rather than the empty, achy feeling rapidly expanding in his chest. It hit his belly hard enough to make him cramp, and Nick couldn’t quite stifle a gasp.

Everything he might have had was as broken as he felt, like someone had taken a

sledgehammer to his hopes—even ones involving a certain young man that Nick wasn’t sure he wanted to acknowledge—and beaten them down until they were nothing but slivers of pain floating through him, slicing into him.

“Get up,” Stanton ordered, “I want you out of my county in the next hour.”

Nick was strangely reluctant to go, but he shoved to his feet as he cut the cop a hard look of his own. “What? No bail?”

Stanton took a half step forward, his big hands fisting when he dropped his arms to his sides. “There wasn’t any bail for Justin, either. Neither of you were pressing charges, and no one filed a complaint, and”—Stanton took another step closer as the muscles from his forearms to his shoulders rippled—“Josh has been insistent about his injuries being the result of his own clumsiness. As long as that’s the case…” Stanton didn’t quite shrug, his body too tensed for such a casual move. “There’s not a lot I can do. Legally.”

Nick turned to study the cop. Stanton was huge, taller than Nick’s six-three and broader through the chest and shoulders. Nick wondered if the police department checked WHAT MATTERS MOST

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their officers for steroid use, because surely this guy was too muscular for it to be natural.

Maybe ‘roid rage would explain the hostility that seemed to be emanating from the man.

And, maybe, Nick should have been afraid, or at least intimidated, but neither of those things were what was causing a trembling in Nick’s arms and legs. That came from clenching his muscles tight to keep from decking the cop, just slamming his bruised fist into the hard line of his square jaw and seeing if it shattered like glass.

“Try it,” Stanton said softly, a slight smile curling one side of his mouth.

Nick wanted to, God did he want to, but he wasn’t as dumb as the cop, and fighting hadn’t done anything for him tonight except slap down his hopes. He needed to use his head for something other than a punching bag. He took several deep breaths, his gaze never leaving Stanton’s. Once Nick felt the edges of his anger blur, he gave Stanton a half-smile of his own. He knew what he wanted, and getting it suddenly didn’t seem so impossible, not when he wanted it so bad. “I haven’t broken any laws.”

Stanton blinked once before answering. “You were fighting with Justin—”

Nick took his own step forward. “Who started it. I was defending myself, and I bet Josh would tell you the same, although asking him to testify against his brother would be a shitty thing to do, and you couldn’t very well arrest me without arresting Justin as well.

Legally.
”

Officer Stanton pressed his lips tightly together until only a thin seam showed. Nick nodded and took another step forward, placing himself within swinging distance of the man.

“And you can’t make me leave town.
Legally.
Or follow me if I stay here.
Legally.
Because I could—and would—have my very competent attorney file police misconduct charges and a police harassment suit. All very
legally.
” Nick took a final step closer, wishing he were a few inches taller as he glared into Stanton’s frigid eyes. “So why don’t
you
try it, officer?”

They stood like that, neither of them relenting. Nick had a bizarre flashback to
The
Zax,
a Dr. Seuss story his mother had read to him when he’d been four or five years old. He’d never understood why the northbound Zax and the southbound Zax had been so stubborn, neither budging as the world went on around them, but as a man, Nick fully understood now the need to stand one’s ground, at least when it was something important. And staying here suddenly seemed the most important thing in the world, or at least, in his world.

Hopefully it wasn’t just his stupid pride that was telling him so.

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Officer Stanton finally nodding, grinding his jaw so loud Nick could hear it. The bigger man turned sharply and strode from the cell. Nick didn’t waste any time in following, his own footsteps echoing immediately after the police officer’s.

Stanton grabbed a clear bag off his desk and handed it to Nick. “Your shit,” he said with ill-concealed anger. Nick took the bag and pulled out his wallet, cell phone, watch and keys. The plastic bag he handed back to Stanton, who took it reflexively then muttered as he tossed the bag in the trash.

“See ya,” Nick told the glaring man, shooting him a grin when Stanton’s expression darkened with anger. “Although, not too much, I’d think.” He turned and walked out of the police station, Stanton’s curses making him laugh and feel lighter than he had in weeks. Even the prospect of the long walk back to the hospital to pick up his truck didn’t seem so bad, and Nick wondered, even as the thought amused him, if he hadn’t lost his marbles.

Morning was
not
his friend, at least, not
this
morning. Josh’s head pounded, and his ankle seemed determined to match the pain beat for beat. He groaned then gagged at the unfamiliar sensation of stitches on his tongue. It was like having a spider perched in his mouth, and that was a comparison he could have done without.

“Hey.”

Josh forced his eyes open. Justin sat on the coffee table beside the couch where Josh had crashed. Dark bruises ringed Justin’s eyes, his bottom lip was split, and he had a knot on his jaw. All in all, the guy had to look worse than Josh, but he was smiling almost shyly. It was so unlike Justin that Josh closed his eyes and gave them a good rub. When he opened them again, Justin was frowning at him.
There
was the brother Josh knew so well.

“How are you feeling?” Justin asked, bending over to peer at him. Josh huffed an annoyed breath before he could think better of it and Justin sat back abruptly, fanning his face. “Still pissed, then.” He sighed and tipped his head from side to side, cracking his neck.

Josh shivered; he hated it when Justin did that.

“Oh good, you’re up. I brought you some yogurt and juice for you to eat before you take your antibiotics and pain pills.” Evan stood in the doorway holding a tray, a bright smile on his face. Josh didn’t bother smiling back, his normally sunny disposition having WHAT MATTERS MOST

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decided to abandon him. He spotted the orange juice and rolled his eyes. He really needed something acidic when he had stitches in his tongue.

Evan’s brows drew together as he looked down at the tray he held. “What? I didn’t—

oh.” He came into the room and handed the tray to Justin. Josh watched the exchange and saw the ease between the two men. Apparently they had kissed and made up. Good for them. Then he saw his brother’s raw knuckles and Josh’s stomach clenched. How bad had Justin hurt Nick? Josh sat up, eyes glued to those knuckles as Evan hurried from the room with promises to return with a bottle of water.

Justin cleared his throat and folded his hands in his lap. Josh glared up at his brother and rolled his tongue cautiously around his mouth. The muscle felt thick and hurt like a bitch, but Josh thought he could talk. He only needed to say one word, anyway. “Nick?” It came out kind of slurred, but Justin didn’t laugh, which disappointed Josh in a way. He’d planned to douse his brother in orange juice if given the slightest cause.

Justin looked at him and that shy smile settled on his lips again. “You don’t have to worry about him. Officer Stanton told us before we left the police station that he was going to make sure that asshole left town for good.”

“Dick!” Josh snapped as he struggled to reach the glass. He’d have preferred

something with more weight, but it’d do for a start.

“Yeah, he was,” Justin held the tray up just out of Josh’s reach. “I know you’re thirsty, but Evan’s bringing you some water.”

Josh considered kicking the tray with his good foot. He hadn’t been so angry or…or hurt in a long time! All Nick had wanted—Josh thought—was an opportunity to meet his siblings, and Justin, and Officer Asshole, had made sure that wouldn’t happen. That was why Josh was so upset and acting like a three year old in the midst of a tantrum, he told himself. It had nothing to do with him or the way he couldn’t forget how Nick’s lips felt pressed against his, the sounds the older man made, soft grunts and growls as he grabbed Josh’s ass and pulled him close.
Maybe if I hadn’t been such a coward and had told Annabelle—

“Here you go,” Evan said, pressing a bottle of cold water into Josh’s hand. Evan unscrewed the cap and sat beside Justin on the coffee table.

Josh glared at his brother, ignoring the other man. Slowly, he leant forward and raised his arm. Justin looked confused for all of a minute, then his eyes widened as he tried to scoot WHAT MATTERS MOST

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away. Josh snapped his wrist and doused his brother with the cold liquid as Justin and Evan both let out startled yelps.

“What the fuck?” Justin snapped, dropping the tray as he jumped to his feet.

Evan stood and patted absently at him while frowning down at Josh. “Maybe it’s whatever the doctor gave him. As sensitive is as Josh is to medicines, it could…I don’t know, give him multiple personality disorder or something.”

“More like ungrateful little shit disorder,” Justin growled as he pointed at Josh. “I know you’re pissed about me leaving you there while I went at it with Nick,” and that fast, Justin’s anger seemed to vanish, leaving him looking tired, defeated, and as if he felt as battered inside as he looked on the outside. “You know, I had that coming. I wouldn’t say we’re even, but that’s the only freebie you’re getting.”

Josh nodded sharply as he set the bottle on the floor. Justin could be mad or not, Josh didn’t have time to deal with it. He had to figure out a way to tell Annabelle who Nick really was, which was hard enough, but explaining to her why he’d kept quiet about it was going to be impossible when he wasn’t sure of the answer himself.

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Two days at his brother’s place was two days too many. There was a reason Josh had moved out as soon as possible after graduating from high school. That had been over five years ago, and even though he’d taken care of himself, Justin
still
couldn’t seem to see that Josh was a mature, responsible adult.

Of course, dumping water on the man probably didn’t help Justin think of him as an adult. And as for taking care of himself… Yeah, Josh could see where maybe he didn’t
look
competent in that area, but really, he was.

Regardless, it’d taken some serious arguing with Justin to get the guy to back down.

Even Annabelle had tried to get Josh to stay. Probably, if Evan hadn’t stepped in, Josh would still be trying to make them understand that he needed his own space. He didn’t want to have to worry about walking in a room and finding bodies entwined. He wanted to be able to run around butt naked, to scratch and itch and do all the gross stuff guys liked to do. And granted, the three lovers were there in the evening, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t alone a lot of the day at his brother’s house anyway; Justin and Evan had the ranch to run, and Annabelle was still working at Chance and Rory’s. What difference would it make if he went back home?

Okay, and as happy as he was for the threesome, if he had to see one more sappy

smile, one more meaningful look, lingering touch… He might just die of envy. And maybe he’d spent a lot of his time peeking out the living room window, just checking the road. Any time a dark vehicle came by, Josh’s pulse would race and his breathing would too and he’d end up panting and a little dizzy and a lot disappointed when that vehicle turned out not to be Nick’s. Every. Damned. Time. Josh closed his eyes and rubbed at his chest, which had suddenly started to burn. Maybe the man really
was
gone. Josh wouldn’t have thought Nick would give up on…

“On what?” Josh muttered, watching through the window as Evan tossed Josh’s bag

in the truckbed. Nick had only ever had one goal down here and Josh had been nothing more than a means to an end. The sooner Josh got that through his head, the better. Except he
did
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know that, it was just his dick that wasn’t getting the message, ‘cause just thinking about Nick could make Josh’s shaft so hard, make his hole flutter with needy little pulses.